Take Back the Night
by JustAnAfterthought
Summary: Conflicts arise during 4th year Yule Ball which, years after, ends up breaking up the three friends. Harry a lonely, wandering soul, Ron a Death Eater and Hermione suffering from an incurable clinical depression.
1. Shaking Up the Night's Uncertainties

**Disclaimer: **_don't own, don't sue._

**Author's Notes: **_I'm very truly absolutely sorry if the story comes of dull and boring at the beginning. It will get better as it goes on… I think._

_**Prologue: Shaking Up The Night's Uncertainties**_

_You know them. The Terrific Trio, inseparable as the Weasley twins are with their mischief. Wherever one went, the other two would follow. Who would have thought that one night, just one night, would ruin them all?_

It happened the night of the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Ron and Harry weren't exactly having the time of their lives, seeing as the girls they were crushing on were paired up with someone else. Someone better than them.

'Someone better than Harry potter, the Boy-who-Lived?' you ask. Well yes, it _is_ quite possible. Cedric Diggory, I am certain you knew him (or _about_ him). He was the cutest and sweetest prefect Hogwarts ever had. Who cared if he was from Hufflepuff? He was, as the elders would say, a dreamboat. Not to mention "the true Hogwarts champion," that is according to the Slytherins, along with a couple more students from other houses. And going to the Ball with Ravenclaw's Cho Chang made matters worse for Harry. Why did he have to be so damn perfect after all?

And what about poor Ron? A bit insecure of being, well, not well off, and overshadowed by his brothers big accomplishments. And being in competition with Viktor Krum, the young Bulgarian seeker, drooled over by millions of fans didn't help him any.

That night ended with Ron and Hermione's non-violent fight and Harry's tight-lipped muteness in order to "preserve" the still standing friendship he had with Ron.

As Ron said his last words (angrily I might add, though he didn't have the right to be) 'Your completely missing the point!' Hermione ran back to her sleeping chamber in anger (now _she_ had every right to be mad, in my opinion that is) and left the two boys in the Common Room. Harry was struck dumbfounded at his friend's lack of common sense but kept quiet. As I have said, to stay in good terms with Ron.

_That much is known, for it had been told in a story to non-believers of magic. For muggles, this story was a fairytale, a childish yarn to delight upon. And for years, they have kept censored what happened after. But here I reveal to you, what had happened that night. The one thing that led destruction to their friendship years after…_

Ron (like Harry) stood in silence, then after a while, realised his foolishness. But still mustering his remaining ounce of pride and dignity, he glared at Hermione's retreating back and headed to his dormitory.

Harry heaved a sigh and fell back on the sofa behind him. He continued staring into the flames in the fireplace minutes after, his mind contemplating over that night's event. Images and faces flashed through his mind. Cho's smile Cedric's annoyingly smug face, Padma's angry scowl and the recent fight between Ron and Hermione.

'Uh, Harry,' a voice interrupted Harry's deep thinking. It was Ron.

Harry looked up in surprise, his jaw slightly opened. 'Yes?' he asked Ron who was dressed in a rather flattering bunny pajama with matching bunny bedroom slippers.

'Well, I can't sleep at all, with tonight's wonderfully happy catastrophes,' Ron said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 'I need to go down to nick a couple of tarts and pumpkin juice. But I can't risk getting caught. Mind if I borrow your invisibility cloak?'

'No, not at all. But still be careful okay? I've been caught by Snape a few times already.'

'Sure. Thanks Harry.'

Meanwhile in the girls' dormitory, Hermione was sited on the bay window gazing out into the star-clad sky. Her cheeks were glowing red with anger, lips pursed together. But tears were streaming down her face. How confusing the whole evening was for her. Even though no one had told her, it was seemingly obvious that Ron showed fanciful feelings towards her. Shame he didn't admit it, because Hermione (at that time, she "sort of") liked him too.

'Why Ron? Why? You had all the time in the world to tell me, and you never did. Not once,' Hermione whispered into thin air. Then she burst out into sobs with hiccups in between and buried her face in her hands.

She suddenly had a small feeling of regret in going with Viktor, now that she knew that she could have actually gone with Ron. Besides, Viktor asked first.

_Tap-tap-tap, _came a, well, a tapping noise from the window. Hermione looked up to see what it was. She saw a large, handsome owl flapping its long wings. It was a beautiful color of glittery purple-silver, which shimmered in contrast to the light of the moon.

Hermione stared in awe. Never has she seen an owl as beautiful as this. Then realizing that she had long been gaping at the owl, she stood up and quickly fumbled with the window's latch to let the bird in.

'Hey there owl,' Hermione said, letting it in, then wiped her tear-stained cheeks. The owl perched on top Parvati's bed and stuck out its left foot for Hermione to get the neatly rolled parchment.

'Thank you,' she whispered. Therewith, she took out the parchment and released from the tight knot and unrolled it. And in gleaming orange ink, the note said:

_Hermione,_

_Meet me in the Forbidden Forest._

_There is a situation I have to ask you. I'll_

_be waiting._

_Yours,_

_Viktor_

A small smile touched Hermione's lips after reading the letter, suddenly forgetting about the complicated Weasley boy. Why waste time with him after all? He was hard to understand and very much timid in facing the world of women. She slipped on her slippers and walked out her bedroom and into the Common Room where she saw Harry in some kind of a trance.

_Weird,_ she thought. 'Harry? Hello?' she said, waving her hand up and down in front of Harry's face.

'What?' Harry said looking up, snapping back into reality.

'What are you thinking of Harry? You seem really out of it,' Hermione said.

'Nothing really. So what are you doing up at this hour? Have a slight case of insomnia?'

'No, not really. I'm just in the mood for a stroll, you know get some fresh air and clear my mind of this whole argument…' she lied.

'Well, be careful okay?' Harry said, ever the caring friend.

'Of course.'

Now as Hermione was creeping around the dark hallways of Hogwarts, Ron had just finished nicking food from the house-elves that were still awake. He was already climbing up the stairs when he saw a girl that seemed like an angel to him. She had her long maple brown wavy hair loose and wore a white flowing night-gown that reached her ankles. His jaw gaped open when he realized that it was Hermione.

'Where is she off to?' he asked to no one in particular.

Hermione slowly crept quietly down the stairs and out a huge door, which led to the outside grounds. Quick on his feet, Ron followed the quick paced Hermione. She went to a stop when she reached the Forbidden Forest. Was she waiting for someone? Who knows?

'Herm-own-ninny?' a deep voice called out.

'Krum?' Ron whispered.

'Viktor, where are you?' Hermione whispered, looking around. Then yelped when she was suddenly face to face with Krum.

'You look very beautiful tonight,' he said softly, looking down at her and tucked her hair behind her ear.

'Thank you,' she said in return.

They were close, so close. Too close for Ron's comfort. Ron took a step closer towards them. He was looking at Hermione with so much love in his eyes. Then looked over at Krum with hatred, jealousy and sadness. He wanted to hurl Krum out into outer space. He was mad at him for "stealing" Hermione from him.

'So what was it you wanted to say?' Hermione asked.

'I need to know, do you love me the way I love you?' Krum said. 'I have seen you everyday, ever since I arrived. And with you, I feel like I have everything that I could need, I couldn't keep my eyes off you during the dance. I love you Hermione.'

While Ron was ready to throw every tart he had brought with him, Hermione was struck with panic.

_He loves me. Viktor Krum loves me,_ she thought. 'I think I do,' she said in response.

Ron's heart pounded hard, he was breathing in deeply and shaking his head.

'Would you like to be my girlfriend then? I know that I'd soon be leaving, but I need you in my life. You are the one that makes me happy, and the Ball will forever be one of my happiest memories.'

'I-I…' Hermione was speechless. Just one night with him, and suddenly he was so mushy? Krum looked expectantly and Ron looked at her with hurt written all over his face. Too bad she didn't see it, if she did, well that would make all the difference in her answer. 'Yes,' she said at last and sealed her answer with a kiss.

Krum kissed back a deep, searing kiss. A kiss that made Ron's heart writhe in pain and plummet into the ground.

'I promise you my heart,' Hermione said after the kiss was over. That was too much for Ron to take. The girl of his dreams, the girl he wanted to be with forever, the girl he wanted to say sweet things to, sweeter than what Krum had said promised her heart to someone who could barely speak in English. Ron ran as fast as he could up the Gryffindor Tower, dropping his tarts and pumpkin juice along the way.

--


	2. The Lives They Lead

**Warning**: Complete non-Canon ahead

**Chapter One:** _The Lives They Lead_

And so they went on, throughout they're years in Hogwarts, and the night, The Incident, never mentioned again. Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger made splashes on the covers of magazines; Harry Potter was made protégé to Professor Dumbledore – the so-called Golden Boy, and Ronald Weasley? Well, his deep-rooted love for his best friend turned ugly and was transformed into, need I say it? Hate. Though it was never voiced out loud whilst still in the premises of school, there grew a drift between them. And Potter, stuck in the middle of it all, made it worse by avoiding the situation. There were, after all, more important things to be considered. Like the impending rise of the Dark One, for instance…

Post-Graduation: Hog's Head

"So how are those meetings with Dumbledore going?" Ron asked Harry, taking a swig of firewhisky and at the same time slapping his friend at the back.

It was just hours after graduation, the former seventh years of Gryffindor headed out to Hog's Head for a quick graduation party. It was risky, for sure. The Ministry placed a seven-thirty curfew on all wizarding streets, and not one single wizard, magical folk, or even pet, was to be let out. The Dark Lord was slowly rising to power, and it was in everyone's best interest to keep a low profile.

But Seamus and Dean wouldn't have it. One hour of complete celebration, they said. It is, after all, the last they'd ever see schoolbooks again.

And so they did. They allowed themselves an hour of happiness and debauchery, drinking and telling stories of their years in Hogwarts.

"Cryptic," Harry answered with a frown. "Dumbledore is nothing but cryptic. He says a whole lot, but never really enough. He never paints the entire picture, and I think he finds mad pleasure in it."

"He _is_ a crazy old coot," Ron said in response.

"Hey, look who dropped by to surprise me!" Hermione's voice came through within bodies of Gryffindors, pushing her way to Ron and Harry's table.

Viktor Krum, visibly appearing before them, held out his hand for a friendly shake. Harry tentatively took it, followed by a seemingly mutinous Ron.

"Congratulations to all of you," he said, smiling at them, although feeling awkward and uncomfortable at the same time. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt there was always something that wasn't right whenever he was around Hermione's friends. But for the sake of their relationship, three years going on four, he played nice and genuinely wanted to befriend them.

"Thanks," Harry called out over the loud music. "So how's Quidditch? I heard the World Cup had to be cancelled this year."

"Not anymore. The clubs were thinking about postponing it, given the circumstances, but it was agreed to just move the game in a safer, more distant country."

"Yeah? Where would that be, then?"

Viktor shrugged. "It hasn't been announced yet."

"Why would you want to know? Won't you be too busy saving the world?" Hermione teased.

"Just in case I feel the need for entertainment in between deathly curses being hurled at me," Harry answered in jest. "So what are your plans after?"

"I have to go to London, meet up with my agent," Viktor added.

"What? But you just got here!" Hermione complained, frowning deeply at Viktor.

"I'm sorry, but I can't break the commitment," Viktor said.

Hermione made a face. Viktor leaned in closer, invading her personal space and whispered something in her ear that made her blush brightly.

"I have to go," Ron said suddenly, rising to his feet.

"Now?" Hermione asked, detaching herself from Viktor. "Why do you all have to leave right away?"

Ron shrugged and walked out, making his way through the bodies of people crowding Hog's Head when loud sparks blasted in the air, drowning out the noise in the room. The women screamed out loud, the others ducking in instinct.

From inside, they could see smoky green light could be seen through the blurry windows of the pub.

"What is it?" one voice asked.

"The Dark Mark," a hushed voice whispered.

Immediately, they all started to panic, not knowing what to do but to put the blame on Dean and Seamus for thinking up of the most ludicrous celebration plan ever.

And then, one by one, they all turned to Harry, expecting a solution to everything. As if he could control the Dark Mark on whim.

"Everybody, get in," the owner said holding open a trapdoor, motioning for his customers to get inside a safe keep, located behind the bar.

Slowly, they all piled in, save for Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"What are you going to do now, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing yet, I can't. Dumbledore has his plans, I can't just make a sudden move that would destroy everything we've worked hard for."

"So we hide?"

Ron peered out the window; the green smoke was less visible than it was. "It's probably nothing, just a warning signal to scare us. Look, it's starting to fade."

"Let's leave it at that," Harry said. "Come on, let's hide for a while. We'll settle this tomorrow, when we're with the rest of the Order."

Hermione looked at Harry and then at Ron. "Yeah, okay," she said, agreeing with Harry and started to walk towards the trapdoor.

"Check up on your boyfriend, would you?" Ron said snidely. "He looked a wee bit afraid of a little fireworks."

Hermione stopped and turned to look back at Ron. "A little fireworks? Are you out of your mind?"

Harry gave a weak laugh. "He was making a joke, right, mate?"

Ron stared at Hermione, his eyes showing no emotions. "It's nothing," he said, tonelessly. And as if to prove himself, he walked out of the pub and into the deserted road.

"Ron, no!" Harry called out, while at the same time Hermione gasped, feeling her heart stop for a second.

"See? It's nothing," Ron said, holding his arms open, spread-eagled.

"Okay, very funny, now get inside!" Harry commanded him.

Ron chuckled and started to get in, until he saw Viktor, walking towards Hermione and started pulling her in the direction of the safe keep.

"You know what? I think it's too crowded in down there," Ron said, and started to walk back. "There's no danger here, and I'm headed home. I'll see you two around."

--

And that, my dears, was the last they ever saw of him. Rumors circulated the wizarding world, one just as ghastly as the other. There was a rumor that had him dead, trying to escape the Dark Lord, but his followers found him and tortured him to death, before eating him. Others say he ran from the Dark Lord, lost in a forest, and died from the wild beasts. But whatever the case, no one saw him again.

Five months after, Grimmauld Place

"Oy, Lupin, catch!" Fred called out from the stairs as he saw Remus Lupin walk by, releasing a dungbomb. Luckily, after five months living in the same house as the Weasley twins, most of the people in the Order easily gained quick reflexes. "A worthy skill to fight against Oldie Moldy Voldie!" was the twins' answer.

"You know karma will soon catch up with you!" Remus called out, as he quickly magicked the smelly toy away.

"It never has, it never wi-" as quickly as the dungbomb disintegrated, Fred Weasley found himself hanging in midair by the crook of his ankle.

"Oh bravo, Lupin! I didn't know you had it in you," Fred called out gleefully, clapping his hands. "Now if you'll kindly let me down, it's getting harder for me to breathe with all this blood in my head."

"What's all this about?" Tonks asked, as she stepped into the house, ignoring the shouts coming from Sirius' mother's portrait. "Remus, you should know better than to –"

"He started it," Remus said stubbornly, cutting off his wife at mid-sentence. "That was the seventh dungbomb he had set on me. You should start saving those for Snape, you know?" he called out to Fred who was still hanging upside down from the stairs.

"That stuffy goon? He has a stick up his saggy, yellow ass –"

"Ew, how do you know what his ass looks like?" George demanded, walking into the conversation as he quietly closed the door of the room he was in.

"I may have walked in on him once, while he was in the shower," Fred answered his twin evasively. When George started making gagging sounds, he quickly followed uip with an explanation. "Completely unintentional, I promise you that. I thought it was Fleur in the bathroom!" He was now bright red from all the blood in rushing to his head – and humiliation. "But seriously mate, I'm starting to see double and would greatly appreciate being let down now."

With a small shrug (and a stern look from Tonks), Remus flipped his wand at Fred's direction, releasing him from the hex. Unfortunately, he was hanging between the barrier of the stairs and hit his head on it before falling two floors down.

"Oh!" Tonks said and held out her wand to create a soft pile of pillows for Fred to land on.

"My deepest thanks, Nymphadora," Fred said, giving her a wink, knowing full well that she hated being called by her first name.

"Practicing for the circus now are we?" a mocking voice came from behind them.

"Good evening, Snape," Tonks said cordially, while the three men stayed in their places and looked at the man draped in black with great dislike.

"Well fancy that, we were just talking about you," George called from above.

"Yeah, something about your ass…" Fred said, trailing off.

"Hm," was all he said before walking away from them all and headed inside to the kitchens to wait for the rest of the Order to arrive.

"Was that Snivellus?" another voice said, surprising all four of them and making them jump when the portrait started to yell all sorts of obscenities. "Good day to you too, Mother," Sirius said, pointing his wand at her portrait to cease all her ramblings.

"You just missed a delightful topic about him and his yellow-skinned ass," George said walking down the stairs to greet Sirius and Kingsley Shacklebolt who arrived with him.

Sirius shuddered. "I won't ask, and please, just keep that to yourself. Is Harry in?"

"Last I saw, he was in the living room, making googly eyes at your fireplace," Fred answered, standing up from the pile of pillows he landed on.

"Right," Sirius said and gave Tonks and Remus a smile and a hug each before looking for Harry. Kingsley went the other way and into the kitchens to wait along with Snape.

"Any news on the whereabouts of Voldemort?" Sirius asked, sitting on the couch next to Harry, looking tired after a long day with Kingsley Shacklebolt. "The Ministry is fast being infiltrated by his men. Malfoy has the entire Department of Mysteries covered."

Harry shook his head silently. "Not a single thing. But we have finally gotten access to the sixth Horcrux, which explains why he's becoming too elusive for us."

"And what of Ron?" Sirius asked, this time in a deathly whisper. Molly Weasley was in the room next door, desperately looking for new things to clean, if only to keep her mind busy. The moment she stops and remembers her son, long gone from her, the tears and wails start.

Harry instantly looked aggrieved and depressed. "Nothing," he whispered back.

"And Hermione?"

"As was before, as was the week before, and the month before, and the month before that," Harry answered wearily.

"Don't worry," Sirius stood and messed up Harry's hair. "We'll soon have this sorted out once all of this is over."

"And if it never does?" Harry asked.

"Never say that," his godfather said sharply. "Never give up on hope, Harry."

--

"Hermione?" came a voice through the door she shared with Ginny in 11 Grimmauld Place.

"Hey," Ginny said, walking in the room and sitting down next to Hermione who sat still on her bed. "You won't believe what Fred and George did this time. They planted fireworks in the guest room once they found out Fletcher would be staying over tonight. He's in for a nice surprise once he enters the room."

Hermione slowly turned to look at Ginny as she heard the word 'fireworks' being spoken. She opened her mouth, almost like she was about to speak. Ginny started, looking excited. "Yes?" she asked, hoping her friend would talk, it's been too long since she last heard Hermione's melodic voice.

Hermione closed her mouth. She raised her hands, tied up in white sheets, and offered them to Ginny, silently pleading for her to be released.

Ginny stood up and went to her side of the room. "No, you know I can't do that. Not after… just, I'm sorry. We both lost him, Hermione…"

Mutely, Hermione turned away and faced the door again, just as if Ginny never entered the room. As if no one else was around.

Not even herself.

--


	3. Ron's Not Dead

**A/N: **_Let me list down the apologies I have to make. 1) Sorry for placing this story under the 'complete' category. I only intended for this to be a one-shot, but when I decided to continue it to make a four-part novella, I forgot to change its status. 2) Sorry for not updating quickly. I completely forgot, but I'll do my best to update regularly. As I said, this would only be a four-part (give or take) novella, so I suspect to have this completed before the end of the month. Or next month. __3) Sorry for the longest author's note ever!_

--

**Chapter Two: **_Ron's Not Dead_

You might be wondering about Ron at this point. Probably even cursing the ground he walked on. After all, how could one person force him to walk out on his friends? Didn't their friendship run deeper than that? Was he really so selfish as to leave his friends just to get away from one Viktor Krum?

Sadly, yes.

While most everyone thought Ron died a heroic death, fighting against Voldemort til the end, they couldn't be more wrong. The day he walked out of Hog's Head—the day he finally left Harry and Hermione in a heat of rage—was the day he was marked a follower of the Dark Lord.

Why? How?

Let's go back five months past.

--

Ron walked quite a far distance from Hog's Head, his head still clouded with thoughts of Viktor and his asinine relationship with Hermione. He was wondering what in the world could Viktor have that he didn't. Most assuredly Viktor had the fame, athletic prowess and money. But wasn't he, Ronald Weasley, her best friend? A friend who has been with her ever since they fought the terrifying troll in first year? Wasn't he the one she always confided to whenever Harry was too busy saving lives? Didn't their times together count for anything at all?

_Apparently not_, he grouched to himself when he heard a loud pop and he was flung to the air before crashing back down to the asphalt in the most painful way.

"What—?" he asked, weakly, touching the side of his head that hit the ground. He blanched when he saw his hand covered in blood.

"How the weak have fallen. Literally," a sinister voice said from above him. Ron looked up to see the steeliest grey eyes that glinted under the hood of the trademark Death Eater cloak.

"What do you want?" Ron asked angrily. He knew he was in trouble, but at the moment, he didn't care. They could've killed him then and there and he would've just accepted his fate.

"I want… to kill you… blood-traitor," the Death Eater answered, malice dripping in his voice. "But I'm thinking I should hand you over to the Dark Lord first. I'm sure he'd love to torture you himself."

"Malfoy?" Ron thought he recognized the voice.

"Weasel."

"Still as immature as ever," Ron muttered.

"And still a wise-ass. I should kill you now, but the Dark Lord did mention wanting to have the Order to himself."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?"

"Not that it's any of your bloody business, but the time for that hasn't arrived yet. But when it does, I'm sure I'll delight in doing so."

With a quick flick of his wand, Draco Malfoy bound his former classmate in invisible ropes and dragged him unceremoniously to a thestral-driven carriage that swept them away to the Malfoy Manor.

Once there, Ron received the most brutal torture he's ever experienced—save for Hermione's rejection of him.

"Just kill me," he croaked out while the Dark Lord paused in between curses.

"There's no fun in that," his voice was wet and slithery, perfect for the nasty appeal he exuded. "Blood-traitors deserve more than that."

Ron barked out a humorless laugh. "Blood-traitor my ass. If anything, there's a particular mudblood I've had intentions of throwing your way."

Voldemort lowered his wand slightly. "What did you say?" he demanded.

"You deaf, as well as lacking a nose?" Ron retorted. He was quickly Crucio'd the moment the last word left his lips, he didn't have time to revel in his quick wit.

"What did you say?" Voldemort asked one more time, directing his wand to Ron's chest, his voice dripping a decibel lower.

"I said I don't mind handing you one of the dirtiest mudbloods of the century in a silver platter. Golden, if you prefer. Though you'd have to supply the platter, I don't have the money and I'm quite sure my parents would disown me if they heard me."

"Are you really? Willing to hand over a mudblood?" Voldemort was pensive. And a little wild with the thought of being handed another muggle-born. He did love the sport of killing innocents, especially muggle-born innocents.

Ron didn't answer. He was too weary. He received too much of a beating to answer the fuckwit who just threw several curses his way the past half hour.

"Who would this mudblood be?" Voldemort continued. He was practically salivating.

"Does the name Hermione Granger mean anything to you?"

--

I know what you're thinking. How could he? Was he mad? What was he thinking? Sometimes years of pent up hurt can blind a person. It can drive a person to madness. If you're cursing the ground Ron now walks on, I wouldn't be surprised.

But I digress.

Let's move on to seven months since the Hog's Head incident had passed. Quite obviously, Viktor and Hermione were no longer an item. It was quite hard to continue a relationship anyway, especially since one-half of the couple turned mute and unresponsive.

Viktor, in his part, tried hard to make the relationship last. He was devastated to see Hermione cry in devastation, attempt suicide several times, and finally, shacked up under her bed covers and not say a word. She looked past him, making him feel insignificant. But no—insignificant was too mild of a word. She made him feel like he didn't even exist. He tried his hardest, but after a month of being looked at as if he was invisible, his words of love ignored, he finally left. It pained him to do so, but everything he did to try to get her out of her stoic stupor was in vain.

The Weasleys were still mourning the loss of their son and brother. Fred and George still tried their best to keep things relatively upbeat, and their gestures were appreciated. But still, at the end of the day, there was a hole left in each of their hearts.

Harry immersed himself in finding all the horcruxes, getting help from all the members of the Order. They were down to the last one, whom Dumbledore has identified as Nagini. They knew it would be a tough job, having to infiltrate the ranks of the Death Eaters to get to Voldemort's beloved snake.

Severus Snape, oddly enough, was proving to be a good person. He still wasn't entirely friendly with Harry, Sirius and Remus, but he did stay civilized around them. Which, really, was more than what anyone can say for Sirius who would growl out in perfect dog-like fashion whenever Snape would step within a ten-inch radius of him.

And then, as history records would have it, on a snowy February, around five in the afternoon, while the Order occupied the kitchen in Grimmauld Place, Ron Weasley appeared in the entrance hallway.

Mrs. Black, in usual fashion, shouted curses and profanities at his wake, which in turn, alerted the Order. Alarmed, they rushed out of the kitchen to see what the havoc could be about. Every member was accounted for, it was impossible for anyone else to arrive—unless Voldemort discovered their secret hideaway.

"Ron!" yelled his shocked brothers. The twins wore identical gaping mouthed expressions.

Harry's eyes bugged out, not believing he was seeing his best friend again after seven long months.

"My baby!" Mrs Weasley cried, stretching out her arms to engulf Ron in the tightest, warmest embrace only a mother could give.

With the shock of seeing him once again, no one noticed the evil glimmer in his eye or the stoic, defensive stance he sported. Or the dark clothes he wore, most especially the long black cloak that few people wore as it was a sign of being a Death Eater.

"Where have you been?" Mr. Weasley asked, ushering Ron into the kitchen they previously occupied. "We've been worried sick."

"Have you tried looking for me?" Ron asked sharply.

"The best we could! It's been too hard, what with everything going on. But whenever possible, Bill or Charlie, or Sirius and Harry would look for you. They've tried everything!"

"Where've you gone to, mate?" Harry was still stricken and pale. He couldn't believe it. His best friend has returned. After long months of doing things on auto-pilot for fear if he didn't do as he was told, he'd break down just as Hermione had.

"I can't say," Ron answered. "It's all a blur. How's everyone?"

"We all missed you, but other than that, we've been productive at finding horcruxes to finally defeat Voldy," Fred piped up. Only he and George were the ones crazy enough to smile like nothing has happened in the past seven months.

"Cool," was Ron's indifferent reply.

"Ron?" Ginny asked, after a brief pause. "Would you come with me upstairs?"

The rest of the Order exchanged nervous glances. They knew what was coming next, and so busied themselves to continue plotting their next move. In the same distant manner, Ron followed his sister up the stairs to the third floor where Ginny roomed with Hermione.

What greeted him was a wave of shock. It had been too long since he last saw Hermione, but he never expected to see her look almost like a bag lady.

She was dressed in a white nightdress, her hair was ever unruly, but it now reached past her elbows, her eyes looked tired and heavy, her lips were dry and chapped. But that wasn't what made him choke out in a cry.

It was her hands. They were bound to the bed posts in long strips of white cloth that looked like it hasn't been washed in weeks.

"What's happened to her?" Ron choked out quietly, feeling a wave of nausea greet him agonizingly.

"She's been inconsolable since you left. Went mad for several days, cut herself, and for the past six and half months, she's been mute. Never talks, not even if she needs something," Ginny answered.

Ginny walked over to Hermione and rubbed her arms. "Hey Hermione, look who's here to see you," she said gently, as if talking to a toddler.

Hermione gazed back at her with expressionless eyes. Ron felt like he was kicked in the gut. All memories of him and Hermione together, back when she used to resemble a sane person, came tumbling back to him.

He rushed to Hermione's side, not caring if he was rude in pushing his sister away. He needed to be with her at that moment. He touched her cheek softly, wanting her to respond to him. Slowly, Hermione's eyes focused on him, staring at him with recognition.

Her eyes started to well.

"Ung," she croaked out. She had a hard time trying to speak. It's been too long since the last time she made use of her voice. Ron could see she was straining herself to say something.

"Let's take you out of these," he muttered, releasing her from the cloth strips that kept her bound to the bed.

"She might—" Ginny started, not wanting her brother to release Hermione, in fears that Hermione might hurt herself again.

"Nothing will happen to her, not while I'm here," Ron said darkly.

Once Hermione was released, tears rushed through her eyes, and she weakly reached out for Ron, pulling him into a light hug—it was the best she could manage.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, wiping the tears away and pushed her hair behind her ears. She was just as lovely as ever, even with the chapped lips and darkened eyes.

She nodded at him, forcing a smile on her face that had last smiled seven months ago. She was mouthing words, none of which Ron could hear.

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her, still caressing her cheek lightly with his hand. It was funny how much of an impact Hermione still held for him. He lost all thoughts of serving her to Voldemort in 'a golden platter' as he promised he would.

Lightly, softly, Hermione's unbound hands clasped on Ron's face. She gazed at him searchingly, so many questions marred her sad eyes. And with a light pull, she had Ron's face centimeters away from hers.

Ron's heart pounded. He didn't know where this was leading to, but he had a good gues as to where. And he wanted it. He waited years.

And it finally happened.

Hermione's frail lips claimed his. They kissed for what seemed like the longest time, easing away all the pain and frustration for both of them. Tactically, Ginny quietly left the room, knowing they needed this moment for themselves.

Ron shuddered after ending the kiss. He didn't know what to think. Until Hermione reached for his hand, and touched it to her lips, dragging soft, butterfly like kisses on his palm. Raising her head from his hand, she looked at him in the eyes. And mustering all the remaining energy she had left, she spoke in a deathly whisper, straining for her words to be even remotely audible.

"I… love… you…" she said, her last word was spoken in a very hoarse, almost inaudible voice.

And all Ron's guarded walls crumbled down.

Too bad he already sent for Voldemort's army to come for her. And Harry. And the rest of the Order.


End file.
